On With the Snow
by Novindalf
Summary: R/H snowy fluff. For Strawberry's 'Sledging' challenge. Set after 5.4, but in January and ignoring 5.5. COMPLETE!
1. Chapter 1

**On With the Snow**

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Spooks. Nor did I come up with the pun in the title; it's from the song by 'The Get-Up Kids'. And I _may_ have nicked a couple of squee-worthy lines from Series 8...

**Dedication:** For Strawberry, because she asked for sledging and I had no will-power =P

_Set after 5.4 (but 5.5 didn't happen) and in January. Fluffy Ruth/Harry in the early stages of a relationship (I relented...), with possible hints of Zaf/Jo._

_Enjoy!_

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Chapter 1

"Of _all_ the days we could have drawn, it _had_ to be the day it snowed didn't it." Shaking snow out of his hair, Adam threw his coat onto the back of his chair and sat down, decidedly unimpressed. Ruth watched him in amusement over the monitor of her computer.

"Good morning to you too," she said. Adam glowered at her in response. Clearly _someone_ had got out of the wrong side of the bed this morning, and was in no mood now other than a complaining one. Ruth decided to apply reason. "Well it was us or Section F, and we did lose the coin toss."

"I still think they cheated," he muttered darkly. She rolled her eyes in mock exasperation, but proceeded nonetheless to reply.

"It may come as a surprise to you, Adam, that not _everyone_ outside of Section D is morally incapacitated."

Adam's head jolted up, quick to challenge. "Find me one person who isn't, and then I'll believe you."

Ruth's words had had the desired effect, and in his eagerness to win the argument, Adam had completely forgotten about his complaining. "There's Wes, for starters," she countered. A scoff in reply told her that perhaps he was not quite the right person to choose.

"You haven't seen his poker face..."

"You've taught your nine year-old son to play poker?" she asked incredulously.

"With chips and money too," came Zaf's stage whisper.

"That was _your_ idea, not mine," Adam defended. "I blame you for introducing my son to gambling."

"You're just sore because he thrashed you."

"He didn't thrash me!" Adam replied indignantly. "It was beginner's luck!"

"And the seven times after that?" prodded Zaf.

"Utter fluke." Quick to change the subject, he continued, "But I defy you to find a single person even in _here_ who is wholly honest. And don't even think about self-nominating." His puffed-up expression deflated when Zaf indicated Ruth. "Ah," he said. "Good point."

Unsure whether to be pleased or insulted, Ruth opted for neither. "Me?" she asked curiously. "Why me?"

"Ruth..." began Jo. "You have to be the most moral person _ever_ to walk the floors of a government building. It's not a _bad_ thing," she insisted, "but it shouldn't be a surprise that Zaf picked you out as honest."

All eyes were now on Ruth and, while inwardly pleased with the compliment, her stomach turned at all the attention. Seeing this, Adam waltzed in to her rescue.

"Anyway, can't I just say I have to go to talk to Wes' teachers or something today and get off work?" he asked. Zaf shook his head in dismissal.

"You've already pulled that excuse for Valentine's Day, mate."

"Why can't I use it again?"

"Valentine's Day?" inquired Jo. "Who's the unlucky girl?" She dodged a pencil thrown at her by Adam. "Oi!"

"Serves you right," he grumbled.

Ros chose that moment to enter the conversation. "While we're here, so are you," she declared, before heading into the forgery suite. Jo eyed her retreating figure, envious of how the older blonde seemed to be completely unperturbed by the copious snowfall. Unlike Jo, she didn't have a single hair on her head out of its immaculate place, and her boots didn't have a speck of snow on them, let alone be completely water-logged now that said snow had melted. Had Ros been anyone else, Jo would have asked her how she had managed it, but in this situation she thought better of asking the proverbial ice queen for tips.

Adam too eyed her turned head. "Sadist," he muttered.

"That's the influence of MI6 for you," Zaf replied. Jo gave a short, disbelieving laugh and faced him again.

"What are you on about?" she asked. "You used to work there!"

"But I managed to escape before I was converted to the dark side," he countered. "Imagine if I had left it a week later..." He shuddered dramatically for effect, causing Jo to shake her head in despair.

"Who gave him caffeine?" she asked, looking in good humour at Ruth for answers.

"I blame the snow," was the reply. "It turns everyone, even MI5 intelligence officers, into complete children..."

"Well they'd better stop when Harry gets here. Somehow I can't see him treating it all so lightly." Jo looked towards his office. It was currently empty. "Where is he anyway?"

"Stuck in a meeting with Juliet."

"Already?" Jo's surprise was evident. "It's only nine o'clock!" Ruth shrugged in response. "He's almost as bad as you are!"

"I'm not _that_ bad-" Ruth began to defend her ridiculous start-time, but was interrupted by Adam.

"Ha! I _said_ you that you wouldn't be able to find an honest person in here! And I was right, because _that_ was a _lie_." He dragged out the last syllable, playfully emphasising his point.

Ruth tried again to protest. "No it wa-"

"As was that," came Adam's next interruption.

"You didn't know what I was going to say," she insisted defensively. He inclined his head to one side in admission.

"I took an educated guess. But I was right – you're worse than Harry when it comes to time spent on the Grid!" As with Jo, the mention of Harry's name drew his eyes to the maroon office. "And speaking of our lord and master, where did you say he is?"

Though she wasn't entirely sure Harry would appreciate the mocking jest, she had to admit that the title suited him. _Lord_ Harry Pearce did have rather a nice ring to it, even if it was unlikely that an officer of the security services would be granted a peerage. A knighthood was scarce enough for someone of their profession. _Sir Harry Pearce..._

"With Juliet," she replied. "He should be back soon; the meeting is only scheduled for half an hour."

Inwardly, Adam was chuckling at Ruth's unrivalled knowledge of Harry's diary; it wasn't part of her job description of all the ins and outs of Harry's appointments, yet she had always (to Adam's knowledge) kept tabs on him. He wondered if Ruth had noticed that Harry had since been attempting to do the same for her. Zaf certainly had figured out that Harry's general inquiries into his officers' social lives were nothing more than a front for his real interest in Ruth's life, and had adjusted the odds on his books accordingly.

Leaving the other three to continue their good-natured quarrel on honesty, Ruth now turned her thoughts once more back to Harry. It was unsurprising that when they wanted to know something about Harry they would turn to her for answers. She was after all the expert on anything to do with any of the members of Section D; it was always she who would be approached for advice or a helping hand, lending her gentle temperament and kind words to whoever was in need of them. Although she couldn't deny that her many conversations with Harry did not quite fall into the same category.

And recently she had become even more familiar with his schedule, as she was rapidly becoming a regular part of it...

***

"_I was wrong," she had declared, after having burst into Harry's office, unexpectedly, and without knocking. Harry had looked up from a file, genuinely surprised to see her there. Since the awkward conversation that had followed their one and only dinner date she had stopped tearing in unannounced, and would instead stop and knock before entering._

_It was a shame, Harry had mused; he had rather enjoyed her unintentionally flamboyant entrances, armed with some vital intelligence or revelation, and a priceless look of proud, flustered triumph on her face. He had missed that, and also their hesitant conversations when he asked her to stay behind, both knowing what the intended to articulate, but both flailing spectacularly as they fell short of doing so. He really had missed this._

"_Wrong?" he asked. "Wrong about what?" He stood and gestured for her to take a seat, but she shook it aside, determined as she was to force out her thoughts._

"_About us," she replied, then shook her head firmly in immediate dismay of what she had said. "N-no... not about _us,_" she corrected, gesturing vaguely with her hands, "but about the talking... _about _us."_

_Harry stepped closer to her, frowning in confusion. "I'm not sure I follow," he said warily._

"_When I said I can't stand having people talking about me... I wasn't _wrong _about that..." Oh god, she was saying this completely wrong. "but... but it's not as bad as them _not _talking about me."_

_Still with very little clue as to what she was on about, Harry hesitantly put one land out to lightly rest on her shoulder. Once more he was grateful for the drawn blinds and now shut door that separated the two of them from the rest of the Grid. She kept her eyes firmly on the ground, very much aware of the detrimental effect his close proximity was having on her heart rate, all the while trying to stay firmly focused on her purpose here._

"_Ruth, what is this about?" he asked, trying to glean a further clue from her. For an intelligence officer, he really was being rather dim._

"_They knew about our dinner, Harry," she began, "and... and they know something bad happened then, because they've stopped talking about us."_

_He noticed how her lowered eyelids fluttered every time she said 'us', as though the word pained her. "And that's worse?" he asked cautiously._

_Frustration overcame her. Finally, she looked up and met his gaze. "Yes it's worse! You don't have to put up with it in here, but out there I get their _pity._"_

_Thrown by her outburst, Harry was initially lost for words. Before he could say anything, Ruth rushed to apologise, mortified. "God – Harry, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have-" She turned to leave, but Harry's hand on her shoulder held her in place._

"_Yes you should," he murmured. He would not leave her to face the wolves alone again._

_***_

_How long they remained like that neither knew, but he eventually noticed that despite her outburst, she was still fidgeting like she did when she wanted to talk._

"_Ruth," he prompted gently. "Was there something else you wanted to say?"_

_She looked at him in horror, completely misunderstanding his words and believing herself to be an imposition._

"_Sorry-"_

_Before he could react, she was out of his reach and out of the door, closing it behind her. He exhaled deeply and let his arm drop to his side. _Why couldn't he have been more careful in what he said?! _He returned to his desk chair and sat down, internally berating himself. _Just when-

"_Harry..."_

_He was surprised to see Ruth back again, lingering this time in the doorway and looking him directly in the eyes. He was even more surprised by her next sentence._

"_Do you want to get a drink?"_

_He stared at her for a moment in shock, before quickly replying._

"_Yes, Ruth. I think I do."_

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Okay, so no sledging just yet, but I wanted to get this out while there was still snow on the ground. More to come soon, but probably only after my exam on Monday.

**Please review!**

**x Nia**


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

**Flashback are in italics. Still no sledging quite yet, but a bit of Zaf/Jo for you, plus Harry's turned up now. =)**

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The evening had begun with an awkward silence, both of them hesitant to make the first move. Ruth had asked Harry what he wanted to drink, he had quashed her protests when he said he would pay, and they had settled themselves at a small table in the corner of the pub Ruth had opted for. They sipped their drinks far slower than was normal; they were stalling, and they knew it.

"Berlin," blurted out Ruth suddenly. Harry blinked, completely taken aback.

"I'm sorry?"

She indicated a picture on the wall behind him; an image of the Berlin Wall being pulled down.

"Was Berlin a part of your 'grand tour'?"

She didn't really need to ask; she remembered their entire conversation from that evening word for word. _Where's your spirit of romance?_

He exhaled in understanding. "Oh... Yes, yes it was."

She nodded slowly, avoiding locking eyes with him. He leaned forward slightly, almost imperceptibly. "You know I meant you, don't you?" he began softly. "I was talking about you when I said about..." He trailed off, uncertain, but she nodded. Yes, she knew. He'd be the particular companion she'd have had in mind too. _Principled, but not foolish. Or naive._

***

Zaf nudged Jo's elbow and raised his eyebrows in Ruth's direction. She was staring into space pensively, her left cheek resting in the palm of her hand, her elbow propped up on a stack of files, and was smiling unconsciously.

He opened his mouth to comment, but Jo silently hushed him with a wave of her hand, and steered him and Adam away surreptitiously to the meeting room.

She could see Harry approaching the pods.

***

_Jo had just been heading out of the forgery suite when a blushing Ruth, failing to suppress an ecstatic grin, had dashed from the direction of Harry's office. Through the now-open door, a similar expression on Harry's face told her that she would be best off waiting until tomorrow to ask him to sign some papers, and she ducked out of sight before either of them could see her._

_She had been all too aware of the harm her light-hearted teasing had done to the fragile and tenuous wonder that was Harry and Ruth. As if the replacement of Harry's security officer hadn't been enough, the pair's sudden absolute avoidance of each other had given the phrase 'walking on eggshells' an uncomfortable appropriateness on the Grid, and anything that put the two of them in the same sentence had rapidly become taboo._

_She'd learned her lesson now though. That wasn't to say that teasing was _completely _out of the question, but it would definitely be toned down a bit. It wasn't really needed at the moment, if her ears had served her correctly. Would he like to go for a drink, indeed... Frankly, they really were hopeless – in a nice way, naturally. _Of course he wants to go for a drink! _Jo felt like yelling at them in frustration. _He's only wanted to be able to ask you the same damn question for the last three years!

Honestly, _for intelligence officers, they really could be rather thick when it came to each other. It was no wonder that Jo and the others had felt they had needed to know that they completely supported the pair. Their 'encouraging' teasing simple had not had the desired effect._

***

"Anyway, why were you so late today?" Adam asked Zaf as they were frog-marched by Jo into the meeting room; Zaf had trudged in half an hour later even than Adam, who had a longer daily journey to work.

"Jo sent me shopping," was the reply. Jo snorted in disagreement, and he whirled around to face her. "What? Did you or did you not tell me to 'grab the list on the table and go get the stuff on it before everyone panics and tries to stockpile the supermarket and I have to put my 'Ros glare' to the test', or words to that effect?"

"Technically I said 'Spooky ninja skills'," she corrected, "but either way, that wasn't the _only _reason why you were late, is it?" She put her hands on her hips and looked at him pointedly, to emphasise her arguement.

"It's not _my _fault you used up all the hot water and I had to wait for it to kick in again!" he protested indignantly.

"But it _is _your fault for monopolizing the bathroom on every other morning so that I feel compelled to get revenge," she replied, smirking at his wounded puppy look. "You should have learned not to get in the way of me and a hot shower in the morning." With a patronising pat of his head, she sauntered off to find Ros, leaving the two men sighing in exasperation at the enigma of the female mind and logic. Adam looked at Zaf sympathetically.

"Still glad she agreed to move in with you?" he asked.

"It's debatable..." grumbled Zaf, his eyes betraying the smile behind his scowl.

***

Now though, things were definitely looking up for Section D's very own office romance, if Ruth's daydreaming was anything to go by. It was lucky for Jo's tendency for feeling guilty easily that that one drink had been followed by another, and then another. And there would have been more, had the nature of their work no held the (at long, long last) relationship of two of its officers in total disregard, and intervened with matters of national security.

She was suddenly alerted to Harry's presence by his low murmur near her ear.

"Well it's good to find that the Grid hasn't turned into a bomb site in my absence."

Startled, she managed to restrict her shock at his close proximity to a tiny jolt as she sat upright, snapping out of her reverie. She turned in her chair so she faced him.

"Literally, or figuratively?" she asked innocently in an attempt to regain composure, but the slightly pink tinge to her cheeks at being caught daydreaming took away all seriousness of the question. She was rewarded with an amused half-smile from Harry.

"Both," he replied, straightening up, and removing his hand from the arm of her chair.

She already missed his presence.

"How was Cruella De Vil?" asked Ruth, loathe for their conversation to finish. Harry chuckled lightly at Juliet's new nickname.

"I think we can forsake the first name, Ruth," he responded. "The Devil incarnate insists that, despite the fact that the whole of central London is gridlocked in two foot of snow, we are still highly vulnerable to a terrorist attack and therefore the whole team has to be on the Grid. She's incapable of understanding that if we do have an emergency, we'd be best off having officers actually out in the city, not snowed in here." He shook his head in vexation at the lack of common sense displayed. Ruth looked at him incredulously.

"But how are the terrorists supposed to cause a riot anyway?" she asked. "Ski across the Thames with bombs on sledges? It hardly fits the bill for 'international terrorism'." She took a deep breath before continuing. "'Oh yes; we can't get supplies, the van won't start, all the important buildings are deserted, and half the country is out making snowmen, but let's carry a couple of pipe bombs across the city in handbags and hope that we can get to the target before they blow up in our faces.'"

She finished with a final flourish of her hands and huffed in frustration. If she had been verging on pink-cheeked before, Harry noticed, she was now positively burning. Her enthusiastic rambling had meant she was now blushing profusely and, energised by her outburst, her eyes were shining with vitality.

Harry thought she looked beautiful.

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Hope you liked it! More soon. (And it'll be much sooner than this one, because it's already partly done.)

**Please review!**

**x Nia**


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Their initial laughter after Ruth's passionate eruption simmered down to simple smiles and, as had become a habit for them, they fell silent. On any other day one of them would have excused themself under the pretence of returning to work, but with the absence of any worthwhile endeavours they had no excuses or distractions, and were content in their companionable silence.

Ruth began fiddling absently with her necklace, tugging at the mismatched beads and twisting the chain through her fingers. It was a tendency she had whenever she was nervous, and she was never more nervous than when she was with Harry. Not scared of _him _per se, but scared of who she became when she was with him. She had always been bumbling and disorganised, but her confusion over Harry was just astronomical.

If it had been hard for him to ask her out for dinner in the first place, it had been nigh on impossible for her to ask him out for a drink, especially after what had happened the previous time. Their burgeoning relationship had been incredibly volatile – it still was – and she had never been one to freely express her feelings. And neither had he, if his Charlie Chaplin impression was anything to go by, so it was little wonder that he had diverted attention away from his admittances about his 'grand tour' by swiftly changing the topic back to thermo-baric bombs.

It was just as well, as she had been on the verge of implying that she would not be at all averse to joining him. It would have been a big risk, a spontaneous decision, to gamble their delicate developing bond and throw all sense of restraint out of the window in the hope that it would pay off. But she couldn't risk obliterating their fragile companionship, even if the outcome could lead to something so wonderful.

As she had later proved by succumbing to her fears, to lose that would be unbearable.

***

They still hadn't found the necessary ice-breaker, and Ruth continued twiddling with her necklace. Harry's eyes were drawn to the amber and brown beads that she ran through her fingers, and his thoughts immediately went to the matching bracelet he had managed to procure for her. He had intended to give it to her for Christmas as her Secret Santa gift. Not that he wouldn't have given her something anyway, but Adam and Ruth – specifically Ruth – had convinced him that Zaf's mulled-wine induced idea might actually pay off as a team bonding exercise, and he had magically ended up with Ruth as his recipient.

It was no coincidence, he knew that much – especially since he was fully aware that she had got him in return. _She_ might have managed not to look at him when she was given the piece of paper with his name on it, but Jo (who had been doling out the name-cards, and who Harry had a sneaky suspicion had swapped several names around when she distributed recipients' names) hadn't exactly been discrete in glancing in his direction as she handed over the paper.

But then had come the dinner fiasco, and he couldn't face giving it to her. The whole scheme was anonymous, but she would have known it was from him; he had commented enough times on her necklace for it to not be him. It was quirky, warm, a tantalizing mix of different shades, and yet it was both complex and simple at the same time. Just like its wearer.

The bracelet was identical, with one exception. Instead of the long, ivory-coloured centre bead, it held a semi-transparent amber heart. He had hoped it would communicate the very thing he was incapable of. So how _could _he have still given it to her, after all that? Instead, he had opted for the generic choice of present of a nice box of chocolates; he would hold onto the bracelet in the hope that someday, he might finally get the opportunity to give it to her, and get the courage to admit what he felt. Though it was still out of reach for now, he was increasingly hopeful that he would one day get there.

Suddenly, they were plunged into darkness.

***

It was only a few moments after the room fell black and its occupants let out collective sharp intakes of surprised breaths that the emergency power kicked in. Now illuminated by dimmer lighting and the flicker of computer monitors, the Grid glowed an eerie soft blue. It might have been quite tranquil, had it not been for the sudden increase in energy from the air-conditioning unit.

As Adam and Zaf emerged from the meeting room, they were met with the sight of their esteemed boss on his hands and knees, scrambling around the floor as he tried in vain to recover the hundreds of pieces of paper that had been blown out of their neat piles by the fans. Ruth was jumping up, snatching at yet more papers as they were launched around the room.

"What wouldn't I give for a camera right now," muttered Zaf, unsuccessful in his attempts to smother his laughter. Adam wasn't much better; the two of couldn't meet each other's eyes without dissolving back into hysterics.

"Stop laughing and help!" ordered a maroon-cheeked Harry when he noticed them. He stood up, trying to recover his dignity as Ruth continued to flounder in paperwork. Quite literally, this time. Zaf and Adam managed to reign in their laughter to occasional chuckles and they dashed over to the air vents to try to find some way of shutting them off.

By now, Malcolm, Ros and Jo had come onto the scene, alerted first by the sudden loss of power, and then by a cacophony of mad cackling. Malcolm immediately made his way through the mess to help Adam and Zaf (all the while muttering something that sounded peculiarly like 'bloody amateurs' under his breath) while Jo launched herself into the fray. Ros slid stealthily back down the corridors before she could be roped into the madhouse.

Despite their combined efforts (or perhaps because of...) Malcolm, Adam and Zaf were unable to switch off the fans, and the Arctic winds continued to blow across the room. Harry eventually conceded defeat and pulled out his mobile, stabbing aggressively at the number pad as he dialled an all too familiar number; Thames House Maintenance.

"Get someone up here immediately," he snapped into the phone. Adam edged closer to hear the reply over the deafening noise. Even standing right behind Harry, it was very difficult to pick out the words.

"Can't...maintenance... system...generator... snow..."

Whatever the missing words were, Harry was livid.

"Then get someone up to the back-up generator!"

Through the placating voice on the other end of the phone, Adam caught the words 'Health and Safety'.

Harry exploded. "Health and Safety?!" he exclaimed incredulously. "This is a couple of inches of snow outside MI5 Headquarters, not a toddler on a bloody bomb site! Get someone out there right this minute!"

More sycophantic mumbles followed; Adam could almost see the steam coming out of Harry's ears. "You do realise that we are responsible for preventing terror attacks, don't you?" he continued.

Ruth stifled a laugh; they hadn't had any work to do since the previous day, and even that had all been paperwork. Even so, the threatening undertone in Harry's voice seemed to have made no difference. "If you do not get the power working within fifteen minutes," he warned, "do I need to outline the consequences not only for your incompetent self, but for the entirety of the nation's security?"

After a long pause at Harry's end, he finally receded with an exasperated sigh and stabbed the 'end call' button none too gently. Ruth, having finally given up on retrieving the documents, looked at him inquisitively. He gestured that they should all follow him into his office, and he shut the door firmly. It didn't fully block out the racket, but at least Harry didn't have to shout anymore to make himself heard.

"They can't 'risk' going out to the back-up generator on the roof until it's stopped snowing," he replied, in a tone of voice that suggested he would very much like to outline the definition of 'safety risk' to the maintenance team, "which it doesn't seem will happen for another few hours. Looks like we're stuck with minimal emergency power until then."

"Can't we relocate to another part of the building?" asked Zaf. Malcolm shook his head.

"Our computer systems won't work out there," he replied in exasperation. "They're static systems, and without prior authorisation I can't-"

"A simple 'no' will do," Harry interrupted, his irritation clearly wreaking havoc with his normally calm self. "We can't run in cables from the other sections either; the whole building's gone down."

"What about a manual override for _that_?" Jo indicated the air-cons. Again Malcolm shook his head.

"It doesn't have an override so, short of pulling down the ceiling, we can't do anything."

"And we are _not _doing that," insisted Harry. "Not after the grief we got for the last damage report."

"Do we have _any _systems actually working?" Adam dared ask.

"Well apparently the air-conditioning unit has power, but apart from that we've only got our own databases, via computers on minimal power. The heating's down, the lighting will be temperamental, and if we try to access any external databases then we risk killing our own systems. Oh, and the plumbing's fine too. Just assume that everything else is temporarily dead."

"Basically we're sitting ducks if anyone is planning on a terror attack within the next couple of hour," added Malcolm. "This would not have happened if they had listened to my advice about snow-proofing the power systems," he insisted. "I _warned _them that the current system would not last in these conditions, but they were too stubborn to listen, and now we're stuck here in the freezing cold until-"

Harry held up a hand to hush him.

"The kettle had just boiled; get yourself a cup of tea, Malcolm," he advised, knowing full well that a nice hot cuppa would do wonders for his old friend.

"Actually," began Ruth sheepishly, "I used up the last tea-bag yesterday... I'm sorry; I forgot to bring a replacement box today." She looked apologetically at Harry.

He had already forgiven her. "Looks like it's plain hot water then," he suggested.

Jo let out a sudden gasp of inspiration and ran out over to her desk and began rooting through the carrier bag of 'basic commodities' that Zaf had bought on the way into work. The others looked on in confusion until she returned triumphantly a few moments later, brandishing a bottle of familiar purple liquid.

"Hot Ribena, anyone?"

**I couldn't help it! The stuff's got control of my mind, I swear!! (For those of you don't know me on the forum, I am currently undertaking the mission of converting the world to hot Ribena.)**

**However, I confess to knowing absolutely nothing about electrical systems etc., so any technical stuff here is most probably a load of rubbish, and/or completely wrong. Ah well! =P**

**Anyway, I know it's taking me a while to even get them outside, but I wasn't expecting for this to last any more than one chapter originally. I got rather carried away... Still a much faster update than last time though =P**

**Please review!**

**x Nia**


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

It was by mutual agreement that the team soon relocated to the meeting room in order to avoid the icy blasts from the malfunctioning air-con units. It was decided that they would take shifts in braving the cold of the main area to man the phones and computers (what few that had not been shut down to conserve power). Adam nominated himself and Jo for the first shift.

"Why me?" she asked as she sat down, her teeth beginning to chatter in the chill. The air-con might have quietened down now, but it was still spewing out freezing air. "Why did you have to pick me to go first?"

"If you think it's cold now, just think what it'll be like for the next two, when the air-con's been on for even longer..." he explained. She couldn't fault his logic there. "Besides, I wanted to ask you something, and I wasn't going to do it in there."

"Ask me what?" prompted Jo.

"Ruth and Harry," he explained slowly, spelling out the words as though his answer was obvious.

"Oh..." She stumbled over her words, unsure of how much he knew. She opted for denial. "What about them?" she asked, wide-eyed in innocence.

"Jo, you might be a great liar out in the field, but you forget that I practically trained you. I can tell when you're lying." He looked at her with a satisfied smirk. "So, go on," he pressed. "Spill the beans."

"I _can't_," she insisted. "Not after what happened last time."

"Not even an inkling?" His voice rose as he tried to wheedle it out of her.

"Adam, you know what happened then," she replied softly. "And you saw what it did to them. I won't be responsible for that again."

"I won't say a word about it anywhere near either of them," he promised. "I won't even tell Zaf, if that's what you want."

"Well," she conceded, "I will tell you one thing; the sexual tension between them when I walked into Harry's office yesterday was so thick you could have cut it with a knife."

"Sexual tension?" repeated Adam. "You don't think...?"

"Don't be silly, Adam," chastised Jo. "This is Ruth and Harry we're talking about, not you and Jenny."

"Or you and Zaf," he murmured.

"What?!" exclaimed Jo, completely taken aback. Now it was his turn again to grin in satisfaction.

"You can't fool me Jo," he said. "I _am _a spy, after all."

"And yet you had no idea that there was something going on between Harry and Ruth when they went out for dinner?" She was quick to bite back and change the subject away from herself. Or more correctly, herself and Zaf. "Honestly Adam, I fear for the safety of the nation..."

"I knew there was _something _going on," he insisted. "I just never thought that either of them would do anything about it. They're both so helpless with each other that I thought they would need a helping hand I order for them to act upon it. I still think they do..."

"Adam," warned Jo. "Don't meddle. We messed it up big time for them already."

"It's not _meddling, _Jo. They've got over whatever happened at that dinner-"

"How d'you know they're over it?" she cried suddenly, petrified that she had revealed something by accident of her observations the other day. "I didn't say anything!"

"Well it's pretty obvious..." He caught on to the latter half of what she had said. "Wait, what do you mean you 'didn't say anything'? Do you know something we don't?"

"It's nothing that you hadn't apparently noticed for yourselves," she insisted.

"It wasn't _that _hard to notice," he scoffed. "One day they're avoiding being in the same room as each other, and the next they're back to blushing like shy teenagers with crushes!"

"Well, I think it's sweet."

"That may be, but you still didn't explain what you meant when you said you 'didn't say anything'." Ever alert, he remained unfooled by her attempts to change the subject. Jo relented.

"Let's just say that I _may _have overheard the words "Do you want to get a drink?" in Ruth's voice coming from the direction of Harry's office..."

Adam rolled his eyes. "The jammy bugger."

***

Back in the meeting room, Zaf had discovered the delights of rolling up pieces of paper into little balls, and flicking them at the closed door. His new-found entertainment didn't last long however, as his aim started to falter a little and Ros, from her position leaning against the wall to the side of the door, gave him a withering look. He pocketed the pieces of paper to save for another time, preferably when Ros wasn't around, and picked up a pen, trying desperately to block out Malcolm's complaints about anything from the 'shoddy maintenance' in the Security Services, to the 'waste of resources' regarding the overly copious yet thus so far ineffective gritting of London's roads.

It was unfortunate for Zaf that the pen he now twiddled between his fingers was a ballpoint, and he unconsciously began to click it with his thumb. Leaning back in his chair and staring at the ceiling in boredom, he was unaware of the further death-glares Ros shot him, and continued to click the pen incessantly.

Ruth and Harry were oblivious to the noise as they sat across the table from one another, failing to be sneaky in their frequent but brief glances at each other. Harry was half-tempted to relieve Adam and Jo immediately and begin his shift in the cold early, but the relative warmth of the meeting room, and Ruth's presence there (Zaf had claimed her as his partner for 'Grid duty' before he'd had the opportunity) proved too much for him to want to move.

Ros however, _did _notice the noise, and was currently even more irritable and impatient. Pushing off from the wall, she straightened up and walked over to Zaf. He didn't even notice her beside him until she snatched the pen from his hand and snapped the fragile plastic neatly in two, before replacing it on the table and resuming her previous position by the door. He whirled around indignantly.

Harry, sensing that sparks were about to fly, snapped out of his furtive glancing at Ruth, and stood up sharply.

"Right, that's it," he declared. "Go home, all of you."

"What about Juliet's orders?" asked Ruth as she stood also.

"Sod Juliet," he replied, wearily rubbing his forehead. "I'm not having my team killing each other through enforced proximity. We get enough of that from terrorists without resorting to murder amongst ourselves."

"We can't leave the Grid abandoned," responded Ros, just about controlling her irritation at Zaf.

"I'll stay here," Harry insisted. "I'll red-flash you all if anything comes up but, for now, you might as well just go."

"I'll stay too," asserted Ruth, her eagerness at the possibility of being alone with Harry not eluding the others in the room.

"No Ruth," he replied. He could tell she was exhausted; for the past week she had been on the Grid for nearly sixteen hours each day, and she needed a break. "You go home too and get some rest. Goodness knows I'll need you at your best when the snow melts and London descends into chaos." It didn't escape anyone's notice that Harry said 'I' not 'we'. Ruth nodded in agreement, and Harry waved everyone out of the room.

He was in for a long day.

***

When Ros straightened up from collecting her bag from under her desk, she was met by Adam. She didn't let her surprise show, but she regarded him warily; he sported an all too innocent look on his face, and she suspected that she would not like what he was about to say.

"Ros..." he began, drawing out her name as he hesitated. "You placed a bet on Ruth and Harry, didn't you?"

Even if that wasn't what she had been expecting from him, she remained guarded. "I thought you didn't agree with Zaf's book?" she said, avoiding the question.

"I don't," he insisted. "But you did bet on them?"

She nodded curtly. "Yes. If I have to put up with their constant mooning over each other then I might as well profit from it."

"So there wasn't even the _tiniest_ snippet of romance in there?" he persisted.

"Adam, you know full well that I do not do _soppy._" She embellished the word with distate. "And you don't have to be a romantic wreck to recognise a winning gamble. Now," she continued, "did you come here to waste my time, or if there actually a point in you being here?"

Anyone else wouldn't have got away with saying this to their boss, but this was Ros, so she was the exception. He ignored her dismissive words and got to the point. "I've got a way we can get the two of them together. Or, if they have already got a move on, to admit it to us."

She tilted her head to one side, as if waiting for more. He continued, "If I can get the two of them off the Grid together, then they wouldn't be so restrained. 'Walking in a winter wonderland' and all."

"Then what do you want me for?" prompted Ros impatiently.

"I need you to offer to stay here instead of Harry. He won't leave unless he knows the Grid's in good hands."

"And you don't think you're capable of that?" she asked patronisingly. "Think you fail to live up to Harry's standards of 'good hands'?"

"No..." he began, brushing off her word, "...but jealousy is the best policy, not honesty, and the other part of my plan is to get one of them so jealous that they admit everything. Somehow I think that me flirting with Ruth is more believable than you flirting with Harry; you flirting with _anyone _unless it's part of a honey-trap is quite hard to believe-"

"Having just insulted me, would you care to explain why I would give up my early finish just to get our boss together with our analyst?" She folded her arms impassively.

"The pride of a job well done?" he asked hopefully. He raised eyebrow told him it wasn't enough. "What about empirical proof of the two of them, that gets you your money from Zaf?" he added. She contemplated this dubiously. "And it would stop them 'mooning over each other', as you put it." This sealed the deal for her.

"I'll do it," she agreed. "But you owe me."

Adam nodded ecstatically, and stepped aside so that she could go 'volunteer' to stay. Harry was surprised at her suggestion, but quick to accept. Anything that would give him to opportunity to offer to give Ruth a lift home was very welcome. Malcolm however was not so thrilled, and had to work hard to conceal his expression, a mixture of shock and terror. He had already said that he would stay with Harry to keep an eye on the technical sides of things, but somehow the prospect of alone-time with Ros was not so appealing. Ros' disconcerting half-smile didn't help, either.

Adam didn't notice Jo sidle up to him. "You promised not to meddle," she reminded him, a scolding look on her face.

"Actually I promised not to gossip, or tease them," he corrected. "You said nothing about _doing _something to get them to make whatever they have public."

"What if they don't _want _to make it public?"

"I don't think they mind so much now," he replied. "They wouldn't be back to normal if they weren't able to get past a bit of gossip. It's _helpful_ meddling!" he insisted.

***

It was less than two minutes later that Harry, Ruth, Adam, Zaf and Jo found themselves wrapped up in their thickest coats as they navigated their way down to the Thames House foyer, and finally into the outside world.

**And they're **_**finally **_**outside. Many thanks to Strawberry for helping me figure out how to get them there =P**

**More soon (hopefully!) but in the mean time, please leave a review!**

**x Nia**


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

_Not the best of chapters, I know, but after the half-term of homework hell I really wanted to get something posted._

_Please review nonetheless!_

***

"Ah."

Ruth's single word echoed the resignation of the others as they stepped out of the door to Thames House, and saw the fresh white blanket covering the ground. The snow wasn't exactly thick, and shouldn't _really _pose a problem and keep them all from going home, but the sheer volume of near-stationary traffic in the roads definitely _would_ hinder them.

Squinting in the direction of her usual bus-stop, Ruth could just about make out a refuse lorry in the far distance, its lights flashing in the white gloom, and leaving in its wake a long trail of cars that reached to her and beyond, as far as she could see in the opposite direction. Somehow, it didn't look like her bus would be running.

"I'll give you a lift," offered Adam, jumping at the chance to intercept Harry who was just about to suggest that _he _would drive her, even though he lived in the complete opposite direction to her. _Another missed opportunity._

Despite an initial hesitance to accept the offer, Ruth was won round when Adam insisted that as he was going to pick up his son from his boarding school and bring him home for the weekend, he would practically drive past the end of her road, so he might as well drop her home. Even so, she felt somewhat guilty; she had glimpsed Harry out of the corner of her eye watching her as she peered at the cause of the traffic jam, and she could have sworn he had been about to say something to her on the matter when Adam had interjected.

Nevertheless, the five of them traversed in silence the sizeable length of pavement between the Thames House entrance and the car-park – the door closet to the car-park having been carelessly blocked by mounds of snow 'helpfully' cleared from the parking-spaces. The car-park itself was underground, but since it would not do to have a relatively unguarded external door leading directly into the MI5 building, the facility was located a 'short but safe distance from Thames House'.

However, for one particular Spook, said distance was far from 'safe'. Unaccustomed to the combination of heeled boots and ice, Ruth soon realised that she might get into a little trouble on the slippery concrete. And it didn't help that her lower left leg was already unsteady, owing to how she had been sitting awkwardly in the meeting room for so long, her feet tucked underneath her as she curled up smaller in her chair to conserve heat. It hadn't posed a problem on the short way down from the Grid but now, having to better control her steps to avoid slipping on the icy pavement, it was making her feel rather tentative and wary.

Even so she strode unwaveringly behind Adam, not wanting to have him waiting for her. She was all too aware of Harry's closeness to her as he walked just behind her, and she stood up straighter as she walked, determined that she would not make a fool out of herself in front of him. She would be cool and collected. She would carry herself with the utmost poise and would ooze grace.

She _would_ catch her heel on a patch of ice and skid, _wouldn't_ she?

Underneath, she knew it was inevitable; she had been expecting it. What she was not expecting, was a pair of strong hands darting out and catching her before she hit the ground. She opened her eyes from being squeezed shut in preparation for the fall, and stared into a pair of bright eyes, flecked with concern.

"I've got you," Harry murmured in assurance. "I won't let you go." He helped her up to a standing position. "Are you alright?"

She nodded numbly, still a little stunned. He frowned slightly in concern. "Are you sure?" he asked, leaning just that little bit closer. "You do look a bit pale..." Well, she _had _lost her colour until he had decrease the gap between them. Now she felt like she was turning into a bright red cherry. "There, that's better."

She smiled ruefully at him. "It's just the shock," she insisted. "And the cold."

_And the fact that his hand was still on her upper arm. _Even through the thick padding of her warm coat, she could feel the slight pressure from his hand, and, if she wasn't mistaken (and she prayed that she wasn't) his thumb was lightly caressing her arm! Whether or not it was intentional, the soft motion was starting to send her heart rate into overdrive, and if she wasn't careful-

She suddenly felt her hand being yanked sharply and she stumbled forwards, just as a massive snowball was catapulted towards where her head had been not one second ago. A quick look at Harry's apologetic face told her it was he who had pulled her out of the flight-path.

"I'm fine," she insisted, before he could ask the question. He nodded slowly, disbelievingly.

"You missed," Harry called at Zaf, though he kept his eyes on Ruth. "Both of us, in fact."

"Well you moved!" protested Zaf loudly and indignantly.

"Isn't that the point of a snowball fight?" asked Harry, tearing his eyes from Ruth and looking accusingly at the other three. "You're supposed to avoid being hit."

"Is this a snowball fight then?" Adam shouted, half-jokingly.

"No, Adam," came the firm reply.

And that would have been the end of it, were it not for a certain Intelligence Analyst.

"Come on Harry," pleaded Ruth, her eyes shining with the enthusiasm she usually reserved for when a Homeric quote needed deciphering. "Let's give them a run for their money."

Harry was torn between accepting the challenge, and gleaning some more time with Ruth, or refusing, and thus keeping secret the fact that he was so eager to do so. He hadn't expected her to show the same level of enthusiasm for a sport, except perhaps netball, which he gathered she had been pretty good at while at university.

Ruth could see him wavering. "Juliet's always on at you about departmental bonding," she offered, "so you might as well take the opportunity. Plus, you can put your cricket skills to the test and show them how it's done."

Harry was taken aback. "How did you know I played cricket?" Ruth flushed a deeper shade of crimson and looked down guiltily, and it suddenly clicked. "Have you read my file?" he asked, not unkindly.

She nodded in assertance. "For operational reasons!" she insisted, although it wasn't at all.

He wasn't at all convinced, but he let it slide. In relief, she pressed him for an answer. "So, snowball fight?"

"Go on then," he conceded. He glanced over to where Adam, Zaf and Jo were standing with their backs to them, seemingly oblivious to his decision. Harry scraped some snow of the roof of a nearby car and handed some to Ruth, rolling his portion into a compact ball, as she mirrored his actions. "Ready?" he asked, when they had finished. She nodded once, and drew her arm back, poised to throw.

"GO!"

***

**P.S. For a picture of the amber bracelet as mentioned in Chapter 3, see the link at the bottom of my profile.**

***

**To Carrie – **

**Firstly I want to thank you for being honest with me, as I do like to take on board criticism and hopefully improve my work. I have tried to keep it more in character this chapter, but I do find fluff harder to write, particularly as there is little precedence for it in the actual programme. If you wouldn't mind pointing out what exactly you felt uncomfortable with, then hopefully I can work on that more. I don't mind criticism, but constructive criticism is better =)**

**I'm glad though that you 'usually' like my work, and hopefully, once I've finished this, I will get back to non-fluffy stuff that I am better at.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

_**Wow, it's been a while, hasn't it? [INSERT INCREDIBLY GUILTY FACE HERE] Sorry about the delay, but hopefully the unseasonal snowy fluffiness made up for it.**_

_**Due to a heavy exam load at the moment, I can't promise an update any time soon, but if I do have another lapse in revision, I will try to write some more.**_

_**Please leave a review!**_

_

* * *

_

Harry scraped some snow of the roof of a nearby car and handed some to Ruth, rolling his portion into a compact ball, as she mirrored his actions. "Ready?" he asked, when they had finished. She nodded once, and drew her arm back, poised to throw.

"_GO!"_

* * *

They had been wrong about the others. While Harry and Ruth had been debating whether to partake in the snowball fight, Adam, Zaf and Jo were already surreptitiously primed and ready to fire. They had known that Harry wouldn't refuse Ruth's please; she was his 'rose-tinted blind'spot', as Ros so frequently put it.

And so while they may have appeared to be easy targets, supposedly unawares and unsuspecting, it was they how had the element of surprise when, having seen in the reflection of a car that Harry was about to launch a snowball in his direction, it was Adam, not Harry, who gave the command.

"_GO!"_

* * *

It didn't quite turn out as Ruth and Harry had expected. On Adam's command, the other three launched the snowballs one after the other at the pair in a constant stream of missiles. Ruth nearly dropped her snowball in surprise, and tried to duck the bombardment. She was tempted to yell out jokingly, "Take cover!" but before she could do anything of the sort, she felt, not for the first time that day, herself be dragged forward by Harry.

He pushed her in front of himself, towards a line of cars parked by the pavement as they rushed for shelter from the onslaught of the fierce flurry of snow, his hand in the small of her back to direct her. When she tripped up the curb and onto the pavement, he grabbed at her flailing arm to stop her falling – again – and steadied her, their eyes meeting for the briefest of moments before he pushed her down behind a car and they collapsed, chests heaving with flushed excitement and unsteady breaths, against the shiny silver vehicle.

Ruth leaned back against the car, head tossed back as she laughed up at the sky, and then she dropped back down to meet Harry's bewildered smile. Properly meeting his gaze, they both burst out laughing, and she revelled in that she was seeing a side to him that she knew was hardly ever exposed.

When their laughs subsided, Ruth noticed that she still had the remnants of her snowball clutched in her gloveless hand, so she crushed the icy coldness, and dusted the remaining flakes off. She made as if to poke her head around the car and seek out where the other three were, but Harry caught her hand. Almost immediately, they drew their hands apart in shock; her at the sudden touch, and he at the iciness of her palm.

"Jesus, Ruth, you're freezing! What happened to your gloves?"

He took hold of the hand he had just dropped, and placed it palm-to-palm with her other, before encompassing both her hands with his own, and rubbing them together, trying vainly to generate a little heat into her fingers. Instead, she could feel a sudden rush of heat flow in her face, and, once again, she cursed her susceptibility to blushing, and chewed on her bottom lip to keep herself from saying anything.

It was Harry who broke the silence.

"There, that's better," he said, and he reluctantly relinquished his hold on her hands, before fishing out his own gloves from his pockets. As he did so, another object became dislodged from his pocket, and tumbled out.

"What's that?" asked Ruth, reaching down to pick it up. Hampered by surprisingly slow reactions, Harry's attempts to retrieve the fallen object before she did failed, and he hand darted out to clutch at snow.

"Nothing," he murmured, silently willing her to hand it back before-

Too late.

"It's got my name on it," she said, frowning in curiosity, her voice conveying the question she wanted to ask.

Harry held out his hand for the small parcel.

"Ruuuth..." he pleaded, drawing out her name. She smirked at him slightly.

"_Haaarrryy_..." she retorted, surprising herself at her own sudden confidence.

Harry, too, marvelled at how much more confident and comfortable she was with him today; without the snow she would never have dared to speak in such a familiar way to him.

"Harry," she tried again, "why does it have my name on it?"

"Er..." _Damn,_ he though, fresh out of excuses. "It was supposed to be your Christmas present."

"But you gave me chocolates...?" she replied, her memory never failing her when it came to Harry.

"It was going to be instead of the chocolates," he explained. "Before we-"

"Before I was an over-sensitive fool and said we shouldn't see each other again?" she offered gently.

One look at her face and he laughed again, before quickly stopping himself in case he had hurt her feelings. He hadn't, if her slightly guilty smile was anything to go by.

"Why is it in your pocket?" Ruth asked. "Were you ever going to give it to me?"

"Perhaps, if the moment was right."

"And is it?"

His head snapped up, and she blushed, wondering if she had been too forward.

"Yes," he replied softly. "I think maybe it is."

Tentatively, she turned the small parcel over in her hand, chewing her bottom lip anxiously.

"Well, aren't you going to open it then?" he asked nervously. She nodded quickly and peeled back a corner of wrapping paper. Harry's eyes lingered on hers while she unwrapped the small present, his pulse racing fretfully as he anticipated her reaction.

He need not have worried.

"Oh!" she gasped in delight as the amber bracelet tumbled out into her hands. "Oh, it's beautiful!" Her eyes shined as she beamed at him. "Thank you, Harry, it's..."

She unconsciously ran her thumb over the central bead, the translucent golden heart.

"Here, let me," offered Harry, taking the bracelet from her unresisting hands and fastening it around her wrist. "A perfect fit," he declared, stroking the clasp where it touched her skin. Her audible intake of breath as he did so brought him back down to Earth and, conscious that he might be going too fast, too soon, he took up the gloves again.

"Here," he said, holding them out to her. "We can't have you getting frostbite, can we?" Numbly, she shook her head. "Who else would make me cups of tea when everyone else has gone home?" he joked.

As she didn't seem to be making a move to take the gloves, he reached again for her hand, and held the glove open, coaxing her into it. She slid her hand into the leather, still warm from his pocket, and flexed the warm material experimentally, the bracelet a consoling weight at her wrist. The well-worn leather moved with a practiced ease, and as its pair enveloped her other hand, she could not help but think that, when she did eventually come to remove the gloves, she would be left with the lingering scent of Harry on her fingers.

It was a delectable thought, and she beamed at him warmly and openly. He returned the smile, and then jerked his neck in the supposed direction of the other three.

"Retaliation time?" he asked, leaning towards her conspiratorially as he spoke.

She nodded. "Definitely," she asserted, and turned so that she was sat back onto her knees, facing him. Now that she was turned fully towards him, he could see the other side of her face, where, just at the corner of her right eye, a small cluster of snowflakes had gathered. He reached up and cupped the side of her face with his palm, and her eyes fluttered closed as he gently brushed away the moisture. When he grudgingly drew his hand back and she opened her eyes, he unconsciously found a quick excuse to touch her face again in tucking a stray curl of hair behind her ear, before finally letting his hand drop to his side. She averted her eyes, suddenly shy, and scooped up a handful of snow, suddenly back to the business of 'retaliation'.

Harry's face fell. To him, it was as though Ruth couldn't acknowledge whatever it was the two of them shared – as though she didn't dare to put it to words, or actions, like he did. Well... whenever he could find the words to explain what it was between them, he would... but the point still stood! Even so, he wished that she could overcome her inhibitions, and verbally admit that they shared _something._ But then, she wasn't like him in that way, and her flustered shyness was one of the many things that had drawn him too her to begin with.

She shifted a little uncomfortably under his piercing gaze, her enormous coat rustling as she moved. "We've been sitting here a while," she commented. "Do you think they'll have given up yet?"

"That's unlikely, considering we're talking about Adam Carter," warned Harry, and he pushed himself up from the ground, careful to keep his head below the top of the car. Ruth mimicked his actions, ducking next to him, and scraping a handful of snow off the car window. He stood back, as best as he could while bent double, to let her scramble past. "After you," he gestured, and they crept around the car cautiously, ready to show once and for all that they should never be underestimated...

* * *

This time, it was _their _turn to surprise the others who had in fact almost given up on Harry and Ruth returning to the snowball fight. The other three weren't exactly strategically placed either, standing in the middle of the empty road, huddled together, and, quite frankly, gossiping.

"Are they _ever _going to cotton on to the fact that they are both infatuated with one another?" Zaf asked, incredulous at the apparent blindness display from his boss and Section D's Senior Intelligence Analyst.

"That's a bit harsh, Zaf," countered Adam. "They just need a push in the right direction." Catching Jo's warning glare, he quickly amended himself. "Just a gentle shove though." She nodded, appeased.

"Mind you, they're taking an awfully long time over there," Zaf observed. "Do you think they'll be rejoining us?"

"Why don't we go find out?" asked Adam, as if it were the simplest question in the world. "What are we doing standing here and waiting to get attacked?"

"Ros wouldn't wait," pointed out Jo.

"Ros? In a snowball fight?" asked Zaf dubiously.

"Well, she'd certainly win for starters," replied Adam. "We'd have no chance!"

"That's if she didn't freeze all the snow to solid ice before-hand," muttered Zaf.

"Even then she'd still find a way to win," added Jo. "She'd probably come at us with ice-picks or something."

"Or icicles."

Zaf shivered. "I feel sorry for Malcolm..." he said.

Adam shrugged nonchalantly. "He didn't seem to mind," he replied brazenly.

Jo looked at him, decidedly unimpressed. "Are you _trying _to become Cupid or something?" she asked. "First Harry and Ruth, and now Ros and Malcolm... What next?"

Well, what came next was an incredibly high-pitched shriek from Adam, as a well-aimed snowball from Harry collided with the back of his neck, and icy water seeped down the back of his shirt. Zaf and Jo near jumped out of their skins at the sudden screech, and immediately turned to the source of the snowball, only to be met with their own incoming missiles.

Seconds later saw the start their very own, rather different, re-enactment of trench war-fare, with each side sheltering behind cars as they launched round after round of snowballs at their opponents. As they had thought, the other three – or at least Zaf and Jo – had seriously miscalculated Harry and Ruth's ability to throw snowballs in quick and very accurate succession at a given target, and were rapidly regretting the very suggestion of a snowball fight.

"Who's... idea... was... this?" panted Jo as she only just managed to avoid a face full of snow. She hid behind Zaf who almost instantly was pelted at, the two of them quickly crouching down at ground level.

"Blame Adam," replied Zaf breathlessly, narrowing his eyes at the guilty colleague.

Adam spied the two of them stooped low to the ground. "Oi!" he shouted. "A bit of help would be nice!"

Grumbling profusely, Jo dug her mittened hand into the snow and gathered up a handful, rolling it into a compact ball. She wasn't to know that among the snow she had picked up nestled several large chunks of gravel, and it wasn't until she heard the audible gasp of pain from Ruth that she realised her mistake.

"Ruth!" came the cry of several voices, and all thoughts of friendly combat were soon forgotten at the sight of her flinging her hand up to the side of her face, wincing as her fingers made contact with the battered corner of her left eye.

"Ruth?" Harry asked frantically. "Ruth, look at me." She opened her eyes slowly, even this slightest action sending a stab of pain through her face. "Careful," he murmured soothingly. "Just concentrate on me." After blinking rapidly for a few seconds, and brushing the snow off her face, all the while insisting that she was fine although her actions uncovered tender skin and the beginnings of a swelling, which would undoubtedly soon blossom into a magnificent bruise, Ruth forced her eyes up to meet Harry's.

Under the gaze of his intense concern, it took all of her resolve not to ask him to kiss her better.

It took all of his resolve not to offer to.


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer:** I own no part of Spooks, its characters, or its plots. The initial idea for this fic came from Strawberry on SICF who asked for a sledging fic. Thanks also go to TygerBright on SF for her snippets and ideas, and the story title came from the song by 'The Get-Up Kids'.

**Chapter 7**

Jo looked horror-stricken when she realised what she had done. Whether she had imagined the dull _thunk_ as the gravel had impacted with Ruth's face was irrelevant; the fact remained that she had hurt her. She could sense Adam trying to hold her back and stop her from breaking up the tender moment developing between his boss and the injured party, but even his restraining hand on her arm didn't keep her from breaking free and darting across the road to the battered woman, the strands of long hair that had escaped her ponytail flying wildly about her face.

"Oh my god, Ruth, I am _so _sorry!" blurted Jo, flailing hands doing nothing whatsoever to help the matter.

Fortunately, Harry acted quickly to shut her up and pack her away. He indicated in no uncertain terms for Zaf to drag Jo away to fetch something from her bag, which he did, not too reluctantly, with the offer of building a snowman. Unable to resist the offer, and having calmed down enough to realise that Ruth was in safe hands, Jo was quick to snap up the potential igloo, leaving Harry, Ruth and Adam behind.

The latter could see that this would be the opportune moment now for Harry to make his excuses and offer to drive Ruth home after all. And, as endearing as that may be, it did nothing to help Adam's quest to find out the truth about the Grid's most evasive couple (if they were indeed a couple). He couldn't very well continue his investigation if his targets were to disappear now, could he?

Instead, he took matters into his own hands. Subtly, he intervened between the two, and helped Ruth to be seated on the pavement, a tissue dampened by snow ("Not yellow snow," he promised) pressed against the lesion in her skin.

"Hold that there for a minute," he advised, 'helping' her to do to at first by gently resting his hand over her one that pressed the tissue against her face. He could almost feel Harry's furious stare burning into his back, but still he persevered. "Hmm, perhaps we ought to take you to hospital? You might have concussion or something."

"Honestly, Adam!" Ruth blurted. "I'm fine; there's no need to be so worried. You're almost as bad as Ha-"

One syllable too late, Ruth realised what she was about to say. She managed to cut her words short, but the damage was done. _So, Harry fussed over her, did he?_ Adam hurriedly disguised his grin as a look of apology, and dropped his hand back to his side.

"I don't need mollycoddling," Ruth added, her tone final. Harry had to stop himself from grinning at the sight of her, chin raised defiantly, almost like a disobedient child.

"Well, we'd best wait here for a bit anyway," Adam said. "It's school-run time now; I think we've missed our time slot to get out of the city before the roads are heaving."

Ruth started nodding, then winced sharply as the pain in her temple increased twofold. Harry made an involuntary movement as if to rush to her aid but, yet again, checked himself as he was beaten to her by Adam.

"Are you sure about that visit to A&E?" he asked. Ruth took one look at his face, then exhaled with relief as she realised he was only kidding her. She smiled shyly, unused to being teased.

It was all Harry could do to look on as Adam helped her back up to a standing position, and then led her over to a bench on the pavement. He cleared the seat of snow, and then sat her down.

Then Adam surprised them all. Still holding one of Ruth's hands (which, he noticed, had acquired a pair of gloves that looked _remarkably _like Harry's) he leant closer to her and reached up to her face. She blinked in shock, resisting the urge to flinch as he held her gaze rather too intensely for comfort and then stroked her cheek, passing off the gesture by tucking an errant strand of hair which threatened to blow against her minor wound back behind her ear. Then, as if absolutely nothing had happened, he sat back against the bench, perhaps a tad too close than their friendship merited.

To the side of the bench, Harry stiffened. He looked at Ruth's face over Adam's shoulder and was relieved to see her expressions was just as bemused as he felt. What on _earth _was going on?

It didn't take long before Harry figured it out. He noticed in the corner of his eye Zaf and Jo eyeing him intently, all the while pretending to be absorbed in the building of their snowman. Their glances, shamefully unsubtle for people of their profession, flitted from him, to the baffling scene on the bench, then back to him again, as if expecting a monumental occasion to arise. Something inside him clicked sharply, and it suddenly dawned on him what their plan was. So, they wanted to get him jealous, did they? Wanted, what? For him to suddenly snap and make a territorial threat to Adam that would tell them categorically what his situation with Ruth was? Well, they certainly hadn't thought that he would see through their thinly-disguised concoction, had they?

Nor would they have expected his reaction at having found out. He wasn't annoyed at their fishing about, oh no. No, it was the fact that their scheme was making his Ruth uncomfortable that irked him, and he was having none of it. Faking a yawn, he took a seat on the bench, on Ruth's other side, then leant back casually, his hand in the process coming to rest right next to her leg.

Sandwiched rather awkwardly between the two men, one of whom was her boss and her secret inamoratos, the other of whom was her colleague and who suddenly appeared to be attempting to make advances on her, Ruth focused on a spot on the opposite snow-covered kerb and tried not to think of the awkwardness of the situation. She was so taken up with the distractive method of reciting the Glagolitic alphabet backwards that it took her a while to register Harry's little finger tapping at the side of her leg. She was about to put it down to his apparent daydreaming and vacant staring into space, and gently move her leg away, when she noticed that he was alternating between light, short taps, and rather longer presses. Deliberately. A long tap, a short, a long, a short. Morse code. 'C'.

She held her gaze with the opposite pavement, meanwhile spelling out his message in her head.

C.O.U.G.H.

And then a series of three harder presses against her thigh.

Cough three times. She did so, glancing at Harry and giving him a barely perceptible nod as she pretended to fish in her pocket for a tissue. As she settled back, she made sure her hand rested next to his, conveniently obscured by one end of her scarf. Immediately he covered her hand with his, and resumed the clandestine message.

T.E.A.M.

Adam suddenly began talking again, and it was a strain for her to both listen to his words, and to decipher the Morse code of Harry's.

P.L.A.N.

"I used to love to walk around London with my mum when it snowed," murmured Adam. "At this rate I'll never get Wes her before it all turns to slush."

M.A.K.E. M.E. J.E.A.L.O.U.S.

"The weather forecast's the same for the rest of the week," Ruth replied.

A.N.D. R.E.V.E.A.L.

"I'm sure you'll e able to find some snow for the rest of his time off school."

O.U.R.

"I hope so."

R.E.L.A.T.I.O.N.S.H.I.P.

"I never spend enough time with him," said Adam quietly. "I never have."

W.H.A.T. Y.O.U. W.A.N.T. T.O. D.O.

"Hmm." Her deliberation was two-fold, but it was Adam she replied to first. "It's the nature of the job, I suppose," she replied. "But I'm sure that every parent would think the same."

Adam inclined his head in semi-admission. "Perhaps." He settled back down, drifting back into his memories. "The thing I miss most," he said, "is Mum taking me up Hampstead Heath on weekends when it snowed. We'd bring the sledge my dad once made and spend hours up there with my brother and sister."

"That sounds lovely." Ruth smiled at his wistful expression. "I never did anything like that."

"What, sledging on Hampstead Heath?" he asked.

"Sledging point blank," came the distracted reply as Ruth mulled over her response to Harry's earlier question. She was surprised when Adam sat forward on the bench and turned fully to face her.

"You've _never _been sledging?" he asked incredulously, eyebrows raised in utter shock.

Harry too was surprised, and he frowned at her questioningly.

"No, never," she replied. "Never really had the opportunity."

"Not even at Oxford?"

She shrugged. Truth was, winter had never really been her thing. Even the festive joys like making snowmen or snow angels, taking a walk in some snowy woods or trying to catch falling snowflakes on her tongue had never really tempted her into liking the freezing weather. Her idea of an ideal snow-day involved curling up by a log fire with a nice book and a mug of hot chocolate, wrapped in the warmest, fluffiest socks she could find. Ordinarily, she would never have even contemplated taking part in a snowball fight, let alone starting one. Of course, she knew why she had done it – anything to seize some precious extra moments with Harry outside of work.

Adam stood up suddenly, rousing her from her reverie.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"Well, we can't have this, can we? You never having sledged?" He tutted dramatically. "No no, it's a situation that needs to be rectified immediately." He nodded towards the car-park. "I've got the sledge in the boot," he said. "Was planning on taking Wes up the Heath later if we had time. Might as well make use of the time now – the traffic's going nowhere." With that he dashed off, loathe to leave Harry and Ruth on their own for too long.

Harry turned to Ruth.

"So, what do you want to do?" he asked. "We can sneak off and try to make that dinner reservation after all. I never did call them up to cancel earlier." He looked at her inquisitively, trying to read the myriad of expressions that flitted over her face.

"No," she replied finally. "I have a better idea." She took a deep breath, launching into spook-mode. "They're thinking they can use your jealousy, or perhaps my discomfort, to squeeze a reaction from one of us. Well, we're on to them now, so that won't work, but in the mean time we way as well have some fun of our own."

Harry caught her mischievous grin. As if her snow-induced playfulness was contagious, he too found himself smiling. "Play them at their own game, you mean?"

"Exactly. Adam thinks he can flirt with me until either you or I crack. Well, we'll use his own tricks against him. I'll play up to him, make it look like I'm taking him seriously. He'll be disorientated, and maybe they'll back off."

"If they're really convinced there's something going on between us, do you really think they won't see straight through that?"

"Perhaps. But then he didn't think we would – well, _you _would – figure out their plan, did he? At the very least we can throw a spanner in the works. It might put them off the scent."

"And I'm supposed to sit back and watch you flirting with another man?" He couldn't believe how confident she seemed, let alone the fact that she was actually considering this retaliation.

"Jealous?" she smirked gently.

"Always." The intensity of his gaze and the sudden deep tinge to his voice floored her, and she had to look away, blushing fiercely.

"Come on, Harry," she laughed, trying to alleviate the tension his sudden words had brought. "It's not like he'll take it seriously. It's only a bit of fun to hopefully stop them prying and give them the idea that our private lives should be exactly that – _private._!

"You underestimate yourself, Ruth," he murmured. "Most of the red-blooded males on the planet wouldn't be adverse to switching places with Adam right now."

"Don't be silly," she murmured, putting his words down to flattery and blushing even deeper.

"I'm not," he insisted. "God, if you suddenly started flirting with me..."

"I _do _flirt with you, Harry," she reminded him, and he had to smile at that.

"That you do, Ruth. That you do."

**Sorry (again!) for the delay in posting this; I was slightly deterred by the lack of snow to feed my mind of lovely fluffy snowy stuff... And then, hey! We have the white stuff! (Plus three days off school as well because of said snow, which gave me time to actually write for a change). Hope you're still enjoying this, and please leave a review! Look, I've even (**_**finally**_**) got a mention of a sledge in there – we're getting there slowly!**

**Next chapter: Ruth and Adam getting cosy on a sledge... Uh, **_**what**_**?**

**Now, please excuse me while I go wallow in 45cm of snow and get some more inspiration for the next chapter... =D**


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer:** I own no part of Spooks, its characters, or its plots. The initial idea for this fic came from Strawberry on SICF who asked for a sledging fic. Thanks also go to TygerBright on SF for her snippets and ideas, and the story title came from the song by 'The Get-Up Kids'.

**Author's note:** The wallowing in snow actually worked? 0_o Had a hard time digging myself out of the hole from last chapter that came from being ill, dosed up on hot chocolate and throat sweets, and having just seen the Friends episode 'The One Where Everyone Finds Out' (the episode with Chandler and Phoebe's flirt-off...) Still, hopefully the end result (this is the last chapter by the way) is worth it all!

**Chapter 8**

Truth be told, Adam was sure that Harry and Ruth would be gone by the time he returned. Given how long it had taken to navigate around a group of youths determined to snowball him, he thought Harry would have been sure to have offered Ruth a lift home by the time he returned. Needless to say, he was very surprised to find them both there, still in exactly the same position he had left them in.

The pair did a fantastic job of hiding the fact that they were completely at ease with each other right now. As Adam approached them, and as Zaf and Jo observed them from across the road, the situation looked rather platonic – uncomfortable even. Only Harry and Ruth were to know that his thumb was gently brushing over her palm as their fingers entwined beneath her scarf.

When Adam reached the bench, Ruth eyed the sledge behind him warily. Though it didn't look bad for its thirty-odd years, it didn't, in her eyes, look one-hundred percent snow-worthy. Adam noticed her dubious look.

"It's perfectly safe, I promise," he assured her, helping her up from the bench. She nodded, unconvinced, but made sure to keep hold of his hand just that little bit longer than was strictly necessary. Harry and Adam both noticed this with surprise – Adam at the act itself, Harry with just how much such a tiny gesture made his heart constrict, even though he knew perfectly well it was all pretence.

As Adam explained the basics of sledging to Ruth, she made sure to embellish every possible moment with little actions to perplex him: casual touches, coy smiles, occasional comments and flattery that surprised even Harry, who watched her intently, noticing ever little detail. A touch here, a gentle caress or stroke there... If this had been an operation she would have ensnared the target in seconds - she really was a born spook. Ruth was amused to note the confusion and alarm in Adam's eyes every time she did any such thing, although to his credit he gave back as good as he got, probing her with teasing questions, then ruining his feigned innocence with the odd sly wink, running his fingers over her knuckles as he sat her down on the sledge, and caressing the inside of her ankle as he slid her foot into the correct position.

It was the coquettish smile she shot at him as she brushed her hand over his thigh that was the final straw. Though Ruth had done a highly respectable performance, the other three simply knew Ruth far too well to be duped into belief, especially not when Harry didn't even appear to be pretending to be nonchalant. Taking pity on Ruth, Adam stayed her hand and leant into her, whispering that whatever game she and Harry had planned was up. Almost immediately, the fierce blush that she had managed to subdue throughout all her antics burst out, and she ducked her face into her scarf in embarrassment.

Adam chuckled lightly. "Don't worry," he whispered gently. "I won't tell anyone." He winked at her again, this time genuine and friendly, and then, before she could say anything, launched the sledge they were on down the snow-slope of a road, laughing at her shriek of surprise and desperately trying to avoid a lamppost.

Surprisingly, watching Ruth enjoying herself so much made Harry's heart constrict way more than her supposed flirting with Adam had. Though her mirth and the glimmer in her eyes every time she trudged back up to the top of the hill was wonderful, and her laughter truly infectious, there was a tiny part of him that felt disproportionately jealous by the fact that she was laughing with _Adam, _not him.

Zaf noticed the envious frowns Harry was shooting at Adam's back as the sledge slid off down the hill yet again, leaving Harry behind at the top, and elbowed Jo sharply, nodding at the forlorn figure left standing alone. Had the situation been altogether different, Harry's vulnerable position in the middle of the empty road would have been just calling for Zaf to throw a snowball at him, but he had learned from Jo's mistake earlier and anyway, look of caution in her eyes was enough to send any man into meekness.

"You _dare_," she warned, glaring at him fiercely, "and I swear to God that when you wake up tomorrow, it won't be in bed with me, but hanging upside down by your toes, as Mossad target practice."

He looked at her quickly, an expression of sheer terror on his face. "You _wouldn't_..." he challenged slowly, dangerously.

She smirked up at him. "Oh, _wouldn't _I?" She revelled in his horror for a few more seconds, then slid her arms under his heavy coat, and around his waist, and they stood like that, completely oblivious to anything or anyone but themselves.

::::

As Harry was rejoined by Adam and Ruth yet again, he noticed that his Section Chief appeared to be guiding her up the hill with his hand at the small of her back. No matter how innocently the gesture was intended, it was one thing too much for Harry to stand, and he stepped forward firmly. "I can take over from here," he told Adam, taking hold of the sledge's string with one hand, and unconsciously mimicking Adam's action placing his hand at the small of Ruth's back with the other.

They mounted the sledge – she in front of him – in a silence that was neither uncomfortable nor overtly companionable. When he reached around her to arrange the string so he could steer she stiffened at first, but then, as if adjusting to the idea, turned and smiled softly at him before leaning back slightly against his body.

"Are you sure about this?" he asked, surprised, knowing full well what this would look like to the others. "We can still brush this off if you'd like..."

She sat up again, straight. "Is that what you want me to do?" she asked, slightly hurt. He didn't reply, and she misinterpreted his silence, both her dismay and her fear evident in her eyes. "But if you're saying... if you think we should stop... what we... what we have... I mean..."

His cry was insistent, determined. "No! No! No, that's not what I mean at all!" She exhaled sharply with relief. "No, I thought you... that you wanted to keep it all a secret still... avoid the gossip."

She cut him off by pressing her index finger to his lips, silencing him, and this time it was her turn to be silent for a while, with the other three – Zaf and Jo having finally extricated themselves from each other – observing in befuddlement. Even when she did finally speak again, she still fumbled over her words, completely exposed in this entirely new territory.

"I don't want to... to have to hide... this... anymore," she managed to say, her blush creeping back. "Whatever 'this' is, I don't want to have to creep around." She looked at Harry, difficult though it was to do when she was sitting in front of him, her back to him, and was reassured to see him breathe a sigh of relief.

"Thank goodness for that," he murmured. "Because I've been thinking the same thing."

"You have?"

"Oh yes, Ruth. _So _many times I have wanted to be able to do things that secrecy would not allow me to do. _So_ _many_ _times_, Ruth."

"What kind of things are we talking about here?" she asked, the wicked glint back in her eyes. Perfectly matched to her, he lowered his voice and whispered in her ear, his breath tickling.

"Wouldn't you like to find out..." Shivers rippled through her body, this time nothing to do with the cold air, but due to the intensity in his eyes and the deep murmur of his voice. He snaked his arms around his waist and held her tightly to him. "You will think me a fool, Ruth, there have been so many times I have wished the world knew about our relationship, just so that I could kiss you or put my arms around you without having to worry about who might turn the corner and see us..."

"Well well, Mr. Pearce," she hummed in reply, "you _do _have a spirit of romance after all." And with that, completely disregarding any tiny amount secrecy that remained, she twisted her body around in his arms, and pressed her lips to his.

::::

It took several more hours for the traffic to finally clear enough for the spooks to even consider getting in their respective cars, which was plenty of time, in Jo's eyes, for a sufficient quota of snow-related activities. Having abandoned her and Zaf's igloo, she managed to entice the entire group – including Harry and Ruth, who had barely let go of each other's hands – into building a snowman. This enterprise was far more successful that the last, although Harry did find himself thinking perhaps he himself had been the model for the surprisingly familiar-looking figure.

"I don't know what you mean, Harry," insisted Jo innocently, as Ruth surreptitiously unwound Harry's scarf from around his neck by distracting him with a couple of not-so-innocent kisses, and arranged it on the snowman.

::::

Eventually the cars lining the main roads dispersed, and the group followed suit. Somehow it had wordlessly been arranged that Adam would no longer be taking Ruth home, and instead she found herself being escorted to Harry's car by the man himself. But despite the fact that they could have easily still made their dinner reservation on time, they didn't go to the restaurant. Worn out from the day, they instead had migrated back to Ruth's house, stopping on the way at a supermarket. Somehow between sly kisses and wandering hands they threw together a simple but decent dinner concoction of lasagne, before finally popping open a bottle of wine and digging out the remaining mince pies. Together they managed to clear Ruth's Christmas tree out of the way enough to light the fire, and then settled down onto the sofa, the enticing flicker of the flames their television.

Ruth sighed deeply, her eyes closing of their own accord as the warmth of the roaring fire overcame her. She snuggled back into Harry's arms and mumbled with satisfaction, turning her head briefly to kiss him gently on the cheek. He held her closer against him, failing to conceal his contented beam, and let her rest her head against his chest, gently pressing kisses to her hair. He could get used to this, he mused.

They hadn't had the most fabulous of Christmases – neither of them able to spend the joyous day with the person they really wanted to – but now, curled up together on the sofa, this certainly made up for it. As they both slowly drifted into jubilant sleep, neither of them noticed the lens of a camera peeking around the window-frame, nor heard the whisper of a _click _of the shutter. Zaf crept back down the garden path as quickly as he had tiptoed up, and handed the camera triumphantly back to Adam and Jo.

::::

It wasn't for nearly two years that the two subjects even saw the photo. When it flashed up on the screen, they both looked completely astounded, and then simultaneously their surprise turned to wonder and delight. Somehow, in spite of their own maddening restraint and frustrating timidity, and all kinds of national emergencies, they had reached this point from the days of dancing breadsticks and shy conversations, and Harry secretly made a note to thank each and every one of their meddling colleagues who had helped them on their way.

The pair ignored the wolf-whistles and cheers of said colleagues as they watched the slideshow of photos. "At least they don't feel the need to get evidence of us still," mumbled Ruth, her distinctive blush once again adorning her face.

Harry took her left hand in his and lifted it to his lips, pressing a light kiss on her knuckles just next to the shiny new ring that graced her third finger. "What, you don't think the novelty has worn off, do you?" he asked his wife, still unable to hide his grin at being able to call her that.

She laughed at him and leant forwards, her head ducking down shyly before she lifted it back up in order to kiss him again. "Not for me it hasn't," she responded when she drew back, their noses still touching. "Most definitely not for me..."

-END-

**And that's all folks! (My goodness! I've actually **_**finished **_**a fic? =P)**

**If it's not too much trouble, please let me know what you thought? (Might help me get through the next three weeks, which will be mostly taken up by intensive exam preparation / panicking... ;D)**


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